Calling Doctor Prongs
by GhostOfBambi
Summary: James and Sirius decide that they're qualified to give advice to their fellow students concerning matters of the heart. Set in the Haggis from Algernon universe. A present for cgner.


**Author's Note: I CANNOT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THIS! I started writing this just under three years ago as a birthday gift for cgner and then – I DON'T KNOW! I suffered a lapse of memory and forgot to post it? I laughed myself silly writing this. It's inspired by/set in the Haggis from Algernon universe, somewhere pre-O.W.L.S, back when James was an utter prat. It's stupidly silly and I'm posting it mostly unedited. I hope it makes you guys laugh too. Or even just Kristina. I totally wrote this especially for her, so as long as she likes it I'm happy.**

**I haven't written anything properly in over a year. I moved in with my partner and got a new job and well, we've been busy. I spend my weekdays in work and my weekends trying to wrestle my stepson into pyjamas. I've learned to assemble flat-pack furniture, such as the new writing desk I've bought for myself to encourage productivity, I bake bread, and I've really gotten into Game of Thrones. I will (probably) call my first daughter Arya. I have an Arya Stark Funko figure next to my laptop right now.**

**Anyway, I'm sorry about never updating. I suck. I am now aiming to write every evening for at least thirty to sixty minutes, although it will mostly be original work. I've set up a website to post any short stories or other writing-inspired thoughts, details of which are on my profile. If you're interested.**

**Calling Doctor Prongs**

"You're on the air, my friend," said James Potter, speaking directly into his microphone, which had been transfigured from one of his shoes. "Talk to Doctor Prongs. What's your name?"

"My name?" The breathy, anxious voice of Marjorie Deacon (the spotty cow) came on the air. James shoved his hand into his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud and shared a gleeful look with his best friend, who lounged in his chair with the elegant grace of a lazy panther. "It's, er, Desperate in Divination."

"One of the noblest of all subjects," said Sirius, who was always able to hold back a laugh when James couldn't. "This is Nurse Padfoot speaking. What's your problem, Desperate in Divination?"

"Well, erm, it's a bit embarrassing."

Marjorie Deacon liked a boy and didn't know how to tell him. That accounted for 80% of the problems that came through to the show – and most of the time James was sure that they weren't seriously looking for help, but curious as to what advice they'd be given. The majority of the serious callers used magical means to disguise their voices and were hard to place, but some idiots like Marjorie were as predictable as the tides. James preferred the piss-takers who called in with fake problems. Terry Heaney from Gryffindor had called in last week with a fake problem about a worrying shoe fetish, and Peter had been a good sport and given them a memorable evening with, "I keep having flashbacks to my past life as a garden rat, help me!". That had been a great laugh.

"Don't be embarrassed," said Sirius, as James was still tittering to himself. "Doctor Prongs and Nurse Padfoot are here to help."

"Well, it's just that I like a boy in my year, but I don't know how to tell him."

"Really? What's his name?" said James.

"Er, I really don't want to –"

"Only joking, Desperate in Divination, we won't ask you to reveal the lucky chap's name!" James interrupted jovially, and mouthed 'Baxter Miggles' at Sirius. "Do go on."

"Well, he's in some of my classes and he's just so nice and handsome, and I really, really like him but I just don't know what to say. I get tongue tied around him."

James had a mental image of himself casting a tongue-tying curse on Marjorie Deacon the next time he saw her speaking to Baxter Miggles and knew he would have to exercise great self-control to keep from doing it. His dislike for Marjorie was completely founded, however, as she had once stepped on his cat's tail.

"That is a pickle indeed, Desperate in Divination," said Sirius, who was clearly bored of Marjorie already and wanted to get rid of her. "What say you to this problem, Doctor Prongs?"

"I say, what's the wisest course of action? Well, for me the answer is clear and smells of raspberry jam, but for others it might smell like chocolate, or in Severus Snape's case, a nice big vial of grease."

"Pardon?"

"Love potion, of course!" James was a great believer in prescribing love potion to his boring callers, firstly because it was near impossible to make and equally as impossible to get from school, and secondly because he thought it would be really funny if one of the crazier girls at school got hold of it. "The simple answer!"

"I'm not really sure that love potion is-"

"Look at it this way, Desperate," James cut her off. "You say you're desperate. Desperate in Divination, no less. You say you like this boy but you can't talk to him. All you need to do is slip a little bit of love potion into his morning pumpkin juice and he'll be the one chasing you. Then, once you have the confidence to tell him how you really feel, the potion will have worn off and you can tell him then."

"But what if he doesn't like me once the potion wears off?"

"In that case, you'll have had your day in the sun and you can move on," said Sirius.

"But I really don't think it's morally right to-"

"Do you think it's morally right to walk away from _love_?" said James.

"But that's not –"

"Don't close your heart to _love_, Desperate."

"That's not what I'm doing, I just wanted –"

"You're very welcome, Desperate!" said Sirius, and cut her off. "So long!"

A pirate radio show hosted weekly in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom had seemed to the Marauders, at first, like an impossible idea when first presented to them. A stupid one, also, considering the fact that James Potter had no real reason to want to host a radio show.

He'd gotten the idea from some of the Muggle-born girls in his year who often talked of their lives outside of school. Apparently, one could call a radio show to discuss one's problems and be met with friendly advice from a stranger with an attractive voice. James had liked the idea and thought of it often. He was an excellent problem solver, and assumed that he had an attractive voice because nobody had ever told him he didn't. The more he thought on the idea, the more he wanted to do it. To help people, he told Remus. To learn more about human nature, he told Peter. To learn everyone's secrets and have a laugh whilst simultaneously breaking rules and irritating the teachers, he told Sirius. At times, perhaps he may have been bending the truth.

In the end, it wasn't that difficult to set up an illegal radio show via magical wireless in a smelly old bathroom behind the backs of every member of staff in the castle, just as expected. Remus flatly refused to be involved and even Peter wouldn't give in to his cajoling and sign on as a presenter, but he did introduce James to his uncle Percival, a higher up at the Wizarding Wireless Network who managed to get them some unused equipment that had 'fallen off the back of a broom'. Said equipment was smuggled as contraband into the school, and nothing could have been easier.

Some midnight wandering under the cover of his invisibility cloak had been required to set everything up, but now everything was running smoothly, and listeners could tune into The Love Clinic with Doctor Prongs and Nurse Padfoot on Friday and Saturday evenings between eight and nine. Contact between the students and presenters was made by way of a simple spell. One only had to find a quiet place and place a particular enchantment on an object of their choice – any object – and this would allow them to communicate with James and Sirius, the stars of the show. "It works like a walkie-talkie!" James had boasted to an uninterested Remus, although he didn't particularly understand how walkie-talkies worked.

So far, Dumbledore did not seem to have acknowledged the existence of a pirate radio show in the school and most of the students were keeping quiet about the sudden additions of new wireless radios in the common rooms, so all was going well. James privately believed that Dumbledore was a closet fan, as were the rest of the staff, and that they all gathered excitedly in the staff room of a Friday evening to listen to the show. He couldn't imagine that the teachers had anything better to do.

"Merlin," said James, happy to be rid of Marjorie Deacon. "I'm brilliant. I should be announcer for all the Quidditch matches."

"You _play_ in the Quidditch matches, Prongs."

"Rain on my parade, why don't you?"

"Stop crying, and get on with the next call."

"Relax, I'm doing it," James pulled his microphone towards him and cleared his throat before putting on his best radio announcer's voice. "These are the dulcet tones of Doctor Prongs. Who do we have on the line tonight?"

"Lily Evans."

James nearly choked on his own astonishment, and even Sirius raised an eyebrow in mild interest. Lily Evans was the last person in Hogwarts who ever could have been expected to contact the show because she, the fittest girl at school, certainly didn't need any assistance when it came to snagging a bloke. Also, he'd heard her slagging it off loudly on several occasions.

Tiny, anxious goblins started digging for gold in his stomach. "Lily Evans, eh? What an unexpected surprise!"

"Surprises are generally unexpected," said Lily.

"Doctor Prongs and I are wondering why you've chosen not to hide your identity," said Sirius, smoothly covering James' temporary humiliated silence.

"Why would I want to?"

"To save yourself embarrassment?"

"Oh, but I'm not embarrassed about my problem."

James and Sirius exchanged a look. Nobody had ever revealed their identity on the line before.

"You're really not embarrassed?" James repeated.

"Of course not," she responded, her tone clipped, as if she were preparing to tell him off. "It's not like I failed an exam or anything, I'm just looking for some romantic advice."

"But if the person you like finds out that you like him…"

"Pardon me if I'm not driven to humiliation because I have feelings. Everyone does," Lily interrupted. "And it's not as if it's not easy to recognise everyone's voices anyway. I could name half of the people who called the show this evening without any trouble."

"Alright, we understand, you're very clever," snapped Sirius. "What's your problem? Out with it. Help us to help you."

"Oh," she said. "Right. Well, I'm madly in love with someone and I need immediate help."

Evans didn't sound remotely upset by this predicament, which both confused and upset James. It was a far cry from some of the emotional calls James and Sirius had received over the past few weeks, which indicated that Lily wasn't at all worried about her chances with this mystery man. This was bad news. He had been aching for Evans for well over a year and if she decided to lay her affections at another man's door it would certainly set him back in his quest for a date.

"Madly in love, you say?" James' voice sounded different to his own ears. "What torment."

"Yes. Torment. That's it exactly. I simply can't take it anymore."

"For how long have you been having these feelings?"

"Oh, ages."

James looked again at Sirius, who shrugged. Evans appeared bored by the topic of her own suffering heart. He decided to question this.

"You don't sound terribly eaten up about it."

"I have difficulty expressing my deepest emotions."

"Well, fine." Sirius pulled a face at his microphone. "Carry on, then."

"See, there are a couple of problems. A few minor ones and one big one. The bloke I'm in love with, he's, well, a bit of a troublemaker."

James' eyes widened like a dog who had just spied a treat in his master's hand. "A troublemaker, you say?"

"Oh yes, he's quite a menace. And of course, as Prefect I have to enforce the rules and cannot simply condone his misconduct, so we've had a few quarrels and I think I may have allowed him to believe that I don't care for him."

"I can see how that might be distressing for you."

"I do suffer, it's true."

"So, what's this bloke like?" James continued happily. His sleuthing cap was on and all evidence pointed to Doctor Prongs. Lily Evans had it bad for her bespectacled bad boy. This was a moment for him to write about, and possibly embellish, in his diary later. "This troublemaker you love so much. Good looking fellow?"

"He's quite dishy, yes."

"Good hair?"

"Like ebony silk."

"Dynamic personality?"

"He's not one of the most popular boys in school for no reason, I'd say so."

"Well, as I'm sure you know, you've got one or two good qualities yourself," said James suavely. "I'm sure this fellow – if he's as smart as I think he is – wouldn't be averse if you were to ask him to accompany you to Hogsmeade for some butterbeer and polite conversation."

"Maybe he wouldn't, but there's still the big problem."

James rolled his eyes. Evans always analysed everything to death. It was one of the things he both loved and hated about her. "Yeah? What's that?"

"His best mate keeps asking me out."

In a huge departure from the norm, Sirius burst out laughing and dropped his wand on the floor, where it bounced and shot sparks at James' trousers. His leg was singed but he hardly noticed, for it was a pale comparison to the pain and humiliation he was feeling. Lily Evans had just ruined his life.

"I know, it's a mess," Lily continued, with a sigh, ignoring Sirius and his ear-busting outburst of mirth. "Such a terrible mess. I want to ask him to Hogsmeade but I'm afraid of what his friend might say."

"I have some idea of what his friend might say," said Sirius, red in the face from laughter.

"Don't mind Nurse Padfoot," said James, and kicked Sirius' wand across the bathroom floor. "He just ate a dodgy Bertie Bott's bean. Why don't you try going out with his friend instead? He obviously likes you a lot more than this other idiot."

"That's a fairly ill-informed judgement, considering you don't know who I'm talking about."

"I've got good instincts when it comes to people," James lied. "They serve me well."

"So you think I should forget the person I love and date his friend instead?"

"Yes."

"The friend who asks me out all the time?"

"That's the one."

There was a pause, and then Lily sighed in exasperation. "But he's such a _prat_."

"No he's not!" James protested hotly. "You're just not giving him a chance!"

"Yes, he is."

"How is he a prat?" James challenged her, while Sirius went to retrieve his wand, still laughing his head off. "Give me one good reason."

"I can give you several _'_good reasons'. Firstly, he's always showing off about something or other."

"Sounds like he's got a lot to show off about."

"Nothing of substance, as far as I can see. I imagine people would admire his more superficial qualities were he not displaying them like some kind of hyperactive peacock."

"Well, _you've_ clearly noticed them."

"Very few people can fail to notice something if it's constantly shoved under their noses."

"Perhaps you're paying closer attention than you think."

"Somebody has to or there'd be nobody to keep him in check. You know, most of the Gryffindors actually want to win the House Cup at the end of the year but that's an impossible task to accomplish when you've got a group of idiots getting into trouble and trying to lose as many points of possible."

"I'd imagine this particular gentleman more than makes up for the lost house points by earning loads of points during the Quidditch matches."

"The Gryffindor team might bask in the glory of winning the Quidditch Cup this year-"

"Do you really thing Gryffindor will win?" James interrupted, excited. He had always wanted to know what Lily thought of his prodigious Quidditch skills and privately imagined that she found them quite impressive and sexy. It never hurt to hear confirmation of the fact.

"Oh, I don't care who wins at Quidditch, my point is that it's not fair when one person undermines the collective efforts of everyone else in some arrogant quest for attention, and since I'm a Prefect I have to actually do something about it!"

"You don't _have_ to do anything about it," James pointed out, quite fairly, he believed. "You just _choose_ to. You could just as easily choose not to."

"Do you think I like ruining everyone else's fun?"

James thought for a moment before responding. "Yes?"

"Well," she retorted, clearly furious. "I'm so very sorry if I care more about my house than about Doctor Prongs and Nurse Padfoot and their stupid, illegal radio show."

"Show's a work of genius," grunted Sirius, who had returned with his wand.

"You could have asked Dumbledore's permission to do this, you know. You didn't _have_ to break school rules, you just did it because it was the more dangerous option."

"What can I say?" said James, leaning back in his seat. "Danger's my middle name."

"Oh, _honestly_, this is getting us nowhere."

"I'm still trying to work out where you were trying to go in the first place," said Sirius.

"Forget about that," said James impatiently. "What I'm still trying to figure out is why I am yet to hear any _real_ evidence to suggest that the friend of the bloke you fancy is a prat who doesn't deserve your attention. I think we should get back to that topic."

"Oh really?" said Lily, and laughed. "How about the fact that I asked him for some romantic advice, and instead of trying to help me, he tried to twist the situation to benefit himself?"

"I didn't try - what?"

"Oh, come off it, Potter," Lily snapped. "I knew I'd catch you out with that one. Did you really think that I'd _actually_ be madly in love with Black?"

Sirius went off in another peal of laughter that bounced off the bathroom walls and sent Moaning Myrtle, the permanently depressed ghost of a once bullied student, whizzing away to her toilet in terror. James leapt agitatedly out of his seat and pointed an accusatory finger at the wireless.

"How'd you know it was me?" he cried, thus rendering all further pretence useless.

"Are you serious?" said Evans. "Padfoot and Prongs? You're aware that you've used those nicknames in front of other people before, aren't you?"

"Er," James replied, while Sirius continued to laugh openly into his microphone. "How do you know we're not _other_ people, imitating those fine young men and trying to put you off the scent?"

"Because only James Potter would refer to James Potter as a 'fine young man'."

"I'll have you know that James Potter and Sirius Black are noble and handsome gentlemen who kindly offered to loan us their nicknames for this show because they lead very busy and mysterious lives."

"Oh, incredibly mysterious," chimed in Sirius, snickering.

"Yeah," James agreed, and faltered for a moment before ploughing resolutely ahead. In spite of this, he felt stupid – a foreign and unwelcome sensation. "I'm not at liberty to discuss what exactly it is that they get up to during these hours, but needless to say, Lily Evans, it's downright rude of you to call in and-"

"You're broadcasting from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor," Lily interrupted flatly. "_Everybody_ knows it. She's been visiting the other loos to brag about it for weeks."

James's jaw dropped, and he immediately spun around, as did Sirius. Myrtle was peeking at them from behind a cubicle door.

"_Myrtle_!" James cried, scandalised. "We were nice to you!"

"Yeah, Myrtle!" Sirius echoed. Unlike James, who was furious, his best mate was clearly loving every moment of Lily Evans's dramatic unmasking of their identities. "You old fiend!"

"Blame me, then!" Myrtle shrieked, rising into the air in outrage, her large, mournful eyes filling with pearly white tears. "Point the finger at Myrtle! It's Myrtle's fault! Throw Myrtle to the dragons! Everyone always does!"

With a wild cry, Myrtle sped away and landed with a splash in the toilet furthest from them, presumably to hide in her U-bend and sob self-pityingly until somebody paid her some attention. Nonplussed, Sirius turned back to his microphone, grinning from ear to ear.

"Brilliant," he enthused. "Just brilliant. Tell us, Evans, which one of us does Myrtle like best?"

"I hardly think that's important, Black."

"Maybe not to you," said Sirius, smirking at the microphone as if Lily's face was staring directly out of it. "But Prongs and I have had a bet going."

There was a sigh of exasperation. "Does your ego _really_ need that much feeding?"

"At least twice a day."

"You're worse than Potter."

"And a whole lot better looking."

"That's a matter of opinion," said James darkly. "Are we just owning up to our identities now? Is that what's happening? After all we went through to make this work?"

"Aww, Prongs," said Sirius. "Stop sulking."

"You're acting very unprofessionally, you know, Potter," said Lily. "I can hardly see you carving out a career on the Wizarding Wireless Network if you keep behaving like this."

"Nice one, Evans!" said Sirius appreciatively, and looked to James with newfound respect in his eyes, as if he was beginning to understand why his best mate was so hung up on the sanctimonious redhead. James glared back in response. "How'd you feel about a co-hosting gig – 'Lily Evans tells it like it is'? Wednesday through Friday, minimal pay. In fact, no pay, but Prongs would be so grateful, he'd probably agree to act as your personal slave."

"I can't _believe_ you two are ganging up on me," said James.

"Not my fault. You heard what she said earlier," Sirius pointed out. "She loves me. She wants my body."

"No, no!" Lily squeaked. "I already told you that wasn't true."

"Thanks for breaking my heart, Evans."

"You're very welcome."

"You know what'd help me recover from this crushing blow, listeners?" Sirius continued. "I think Evans should stop teasing us all and tell us who Moaning Myrtle would rather be sharing a leaky toilet with. What say you, Prongs?"

He shot James a meaningful look, but James had all but checked out of the festivities. Lily had ruined the radio for him. She had put an end to fun.

"I hate you, Sirius," he said.

"Now that the truth is out, can we talk about the fact that you two have spent the past few weeks breaking at least twenty school rules and doling out _terrible_ advice to other students even though you're completely ill-equipped to do so?"

"Of course we can," said Sirius. "But tell us who Myrtle fancies first."

"Hang on," said James, frowning at his own microphone. "We have _not_ been giving out terrible advice!"

"You told Davey Gudgeon to seek revenge on Tilden Toots for asking his girlfriend on a date by locking him in a broom cupboard with Mrs Norris!"

"That was _not_ Davey Gudgeon!" James retorted hotly. "That was Heartbroken in Herbology!"

"Gudgeon's had a difficult enough time as it is lately without you having a go at him," said Sirius. "The Whomping Willow almost took his eye out last week."

"And now Evans has embarrassed him on school-wide radio."

"Gudgeon embarrassed himself!" Lily protested. "Besides, I highly doubt what you two are doing qualifies as being kind to him. It seems to me that you're just laughing at everybody behind their backs."

"We are not," James lied. "We're being helpful."

"Who cares if we are or not?" said Sirius. "What matters is that I find out which one of us Myrtle fancies."

"Oh, ask her yourself, for Merlin's sake," Lily spat.

"I can hardly do that, can I?" Sirius replied. "She'd think she has a chance with me, and then I'd have to remind her that she's dead, and we can never be. How insensitive do you think I am?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, I can't stand you both," Lily growled.

"So, hang on a second," said James. "Evans, you're not in love with Sirius?"

"Of course I'm not in love with Black, you bloody great idiot!"

"So you're still hung up on me, then?"

"Where on _earth_ did you get that idea?"

"It's fine, don't worry," he soothed. "I'm not angry."

"I don't care if you're angry or not, Potter, the reason I called in was because I wanted to -"

"Go out with me," James interrupted again. "I know, I know."

"Of course that's the reason," said Sirius. "Why else would she try to make you jealous?"

"I can't believe it took me so long to figure it out!" James agreed. "Seriously, Evans, no need to resort to such tactics to get my attention. How about you and I spend some quality time together on the next Hogsmeade trip?"

"Potter, I -"

"I'll meet you in the Three Broomsticks at noon on Saturday, yeah?"

There was silence on the end of the line. For a brief moment, James allowed himself to believe that his beloved had given in to the power of her lust and geared herself up to accept his offer, but then there was a bang, and a laugh from Evans, and he looked up to find that the bathroom door had been unlocked. Professor McGonagall was standing in the doorway with her wand pointed at them both, and in her eyes was the promise of a hundred detentions.

"Ah, Professor!" said Sirius, raising a hand in welcome. "Care for some romance tips?"


End file.
